


Faulty Assumptions

by Creej



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Misunderstandings, implied infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 18:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13746642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creej/pseuds/Creej
Summary: Elizabeth invites Peter to a very private show but what Peter sees isn't what he expected.





	Faulty Assumptions

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know why I've felt the need to put Peter through emotional hell lately but here it is....

Peter sat in the dark, stuffy room on the third floor of his Brooklyn townhouse, his mind replaying the scene at the private club on a seemingly endless loop. He'd been invited to the club by Elizabeth even though it had been closed that day - the manager was a friend of hers and had given her use of the club for a few hours. A note on the polished wood bar had instructed him to go to a private room and relax. He'd done so, curious as to what Elizabeth had planned.

When he entered, he immediately noticed the glass that made up a large portion of one wall, the curtain on the other side closed. Even more curious, Peter made himself comfortable in one of the deep leather wingback chairs that faced the glass.

A few minutes later, the curtain opened and he stared at the sight that revealed itself - Elizabeth in a form fitting blue teddy with a plunging neckline and riding high on the hips, black lace contrasting with her skin. She began swaying to the almost inaudible music that played and Peter felt himself responding. A few minutes later, she turned around and looked coyly over her shoulder. Another curtain at the back of the stage twitched aside and Neal stepped through, wearing little more than a pair of extremely tight briefs. Incredulous, Peter watched as Neal's arms slid around Elizabeth's waist with disturbing familiarity and dip his head to take her mouth...and her eager response.

Peter sat frozen in shock, watching as his wife practically climbed his best friend then he was up and out of the room, moving before he realized.

He'd come home by instinct, knowing home was a safe place, needing the familiar. He'd climbed the stairs, barely aware and found himself on the little used third floor - with just him and Elizabeth, it was used mostly for storage. He couldn't remember the last time either of them had been up there.

It was only after he'd collapsed on an old futon mattress that the tears came, silent and steady, the only sound his hitching breath. He must have dozed off because the next thing he was aware of were voices calling his name. He remained silent as he wiped the dried remains of his tears away.

 

"Anything?" Neal asked.

"He's not here," Elizabeth said.

"What the hell happened?" Neal asked, bewildered. "You said he'd like what we did."

"I thought he would too," Elizabeth said, just as bewildered.

"Did he say that?"

Elizabeth bit her lip. "Not exactly," she said. "I heard him talking...in his sleep. I heard him say my name, your name...and he made sounds that weren't...unpleasant."

"So you thought he was fantasizing about it," Neal said.

"It sure as hell sounded like it," Elizabeth said.

"Try calling him again," Neal said.

Elizabeth pressed the preset for Peter and listened to it ring, hoping he'd answer this time.

"Why Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth's heart clenched at the pain she heard in the whispered question. "Why what hon?"

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me you were in love with him?"

"I'm not..."

"I _saw_ it Elizabeth! The way you touched him, the way you looked at him, the way you...kissed him..."

"Oh hon, it's not what you think..."

"Not what I think? What am I supposed to think, seeing you all over him..." A harsh sob came over the line.

"I thought you'd _like_ watching us...I heard you...you _dreamed_ about it."

"I _dreamed_ about you _cheating_ on me...with him!"

"Oh...oh hon, I'm so sorry," Elizabeth whispered. "I didn't know...I didn't think..."

"No, you didn't think. You didn't even notice when I left."

Elizabeth felt shame warm her face. They _hadn't_ noticed when he'd left - they'd been too caught up in the taste, the feel of each other...in the performance they were putting on for him. By the time they'd separated - breathless and aroused - and turned to see Peter's reaction, he was gone. Then came the rush to dress, searching the club to see if he'd wanted privacy...to finish. The club had been empty, no sign of Peter.

"Will you tell me where you are? Please hon..."

"No...I can't...can't see you right now. Goodbye Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth?" Neal asked worriedly.

"He...he thinks I'm in love with you," she said, shaking her head a little. "It wasn't us...doing what we did he dreamed about...it was me cheating on him. With you."

"That's ridiculous," Neal said. "You wouldn't"

"No, I wouldn't," Elizabeth said. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But he was right. We didn't notice he was gone. We got too caught up..."

 

Upstairs, Peter woke with a start, disoriented by his surroundings - then he remembered. The club. Neal. Elizabeth.

Around him, the house was quiet and he crept down to the second floor, his mind filled with images of Neal and Elizabeth curled up around each other, sleeping peacefully. But the bed was empty when he looked in. He was momentarily confused but then thought she'd gone back to the loft with Neal.

By the light of a bedside lamp, he dragged out a suitcase and quickly packed, his only thought was to get away, leave them to each other. Where he'd go, he wasn't sure. First thing in the morning he'd talk to Hughes about taking an extended leave of absence. After that...

He faltered when he caught sight of the couch. There was Elizabeth, curled up, head on Neal's lap, asleep. Neal was as well, his head at an angle sure to wreak havoc on his neck, his hand laid almost possessively on Elizabeth's arm. Part of him had to smile at the picture - they looked so good together, like they belonged.

Satchmo looked up from his bed as Peter finished descending, his tail thumping softly on the floor. Peter placed a finger across his lips and shook his head, relieved when the dog lay back down. Quietly, carefully, he eased the door open. Taking one last look, he left, closing the door just as quietly behind him.

 

Peter drove south, his mind as blank as he could make it and still drive safely, letting the silence of the road, the monotony, soothe him. He hadn't decided on his destination until right before he'd talked to Hughes. Fortunately, his boss hadn't probed too deeply when he'd asked for leave, just told him to take as much time as he needed to get his head on straight. Since then, he'd been driving south, to his parents' cabin in Westchester County. It had been years since he'd been there - the last time was not long after he and Elizabeth were married. Since then, he'd been busy with the job and Elizabeth with her business. They'd just hadn't had the time.

It was late afternoon when he stopped in the small town nearest the cabin and bought a few days worth of groceries, unsure of how well or even if the cabin was supplied.

Once inside, he opened the windows to air it out, glad it was late enough in the year that he didn't have to worry about it getting cold at night. He still checked the woodpile, thinking he could take his mind off the situation at home by replenishing it - that and it was good exercise.

Finally, the long drive caught up to him and he quickly made the bed before falling into it. He was asleep moments later.

 

"Three days, Neal," Elizabeth said. "Three days and not a word."

"He won't answer my calls either," Neal said with a sigh. "Keeps going to voicemail." He fiddled with his coffee cup, brow furrowed. "Hughes doesn't know where he is?"

"I haven't asked," Elizabeth said. At Neal's frown, she went on, "How would I explain that I don't know where my husband is?" She sighed. "My fault," she said in a low voice. "I screwed up and I hurt him."

"I went along with it," Neal said softly.

"Because I talked you into it," Elizabeth said. "I convinced you he'd been fantasizing about it." She drummed her fingers on the table a moment then said, sounding a little lost, "I don't know what to do."

"Any idea where he'd go?" Neal asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. "I doubt he's in the city though," she said. "But three days...he could be anywhere."

 

Peter sat on the porch, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun on his face. He'd done a lot of thinking over the last week - about Neal, about Elizabeth, about them and what they'd had - and he'd come to a decision. He pulled out his phone, wondering if he even had cell reception. But he needn't have worried - he had three of four bars. Ignoring the voicemails, he hesitated briefly before calling Elizabeth.

"Peter? Hon, where are you?"

"Elizabeth..." He stopped, swallowing past the lump in his throat. What he needed to do would hurt but he was going to do it regardless. "Just listen." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I just want you to know I understand. I understand why you fell in love with him. He's attractive, smart, charming, witty...everything I'm not. He's...he's perfect for you. I still love you, I always will but I know you love Neal...I saw it that day at the club. I know he loves you too." He gave a short laugh. "And that I understand all too well..."

"Peter, hon, please...you have it all wrong..."

"I know what I saw Elizabeth," Peter said. "Anyone with eyes would have seen it."

There was silence on the other end then, "Will you tell me where you are? Please hon..."

"So you can come here?" Peter shook his head. "You shouldn't worry about me. You should be with Neal. I love you too much to stand in your way."

"Hon..."

"Would you tell Neal I'm not mad at him? Like I said, I understand all too well why he loves you. And I know you'll be happy with him."

"I'm happy with _you_..."

"You can't help you you love, Elizabeth," he said. Before she could respond, he disconnected. Setting the phone aside, he let out a shaky breath. And let the tears fall.

 

Elizabeth busied herself making dinner - not because she was hungry but to occupy herself, her mind replaying that last conversation with Peter. He'd sounded so sure, he really believed that she and Neal were in love. Granted, she did love the ex con but not romantically, just as a friend. She faltered as she realized...Peter was letting her go. She sagged against the counter and would have fallen if Neal hadn't been there to support her.

"Elizabeth? What?"

"He's...he's leaving me," she said softly. She looked at Neal, teary eyed. "He's leaving me so I can be with you."

"Then you'll get him back," NEal said. He guided her to a chair. "Now, I'll finish here and you tell me everything." Once she finished, Neal questioned her, getting every bit of information possible and silently thanking Peter for the lessons in interrogation. "So some place quiet - no traffic in the background, no voices. Very quiet. Ring any bells?"

"No..." Elizabeth frowned as a memory teased her. "Wait...a cabin...Westchester County. His parents', I think. We went there...years ago, not long after we got married."

"Still in the family?"

"As far as I know...yes," Elizabeth said. "We'd always make plans to take time off. Go there to decompress but..."

"Yeah, the job...work..." Neal said. "Do you remember where it is?"

"It's been years..."

Neal nodded, preparing plates for each of them. "I have an idea," he said. At Elizabeth's curious look, he said, "Moz."

As Elizabeth did the dishes, Neal put in a call to Moz, asking him to search property records in Westchester County for the name Burke and send him the information if he found it. As expected, Moz came through a few hours later. Being Moz, he couldn't pass on the information without a snarky comment about how he could relate to living off the grid but Peter had done him one better.

"I'm free this weekend," Elizabeth said. "It's the off season so not much business. You?"

The question caught Neal off guard. "Me? What do you mean?"

"I mean, we should both go," Elizabeth said. "We both explain."

"Are you sure?" Neal asked. "He thinks we're in love, Elizabeth. Going there together..."

"Please, Neal," Elizabeth said. "Come with me, if for nothing more than moral support."

Somewhat reluctantly, Neal nodded. "All right," he said. "Moral support."

 

The nights had turned chilly sooner than Peter expected so he set to work replenishing the woodpile in the back of the cabin. He wiped his brow and set a block of wood on the chopping block, ignoring the slight burn across his shoulders. He'd been surprised - pleasantly - that the activity had come back so easily. It had been years since he'd spent an afternoon chopping wood with his father. He found it soothing, almost zen, the repetitiveness of the motion and it made it easy to blank his mind. He stacked the split wood onto the pile and decided to take a break. It was mid afternoon - the hottest part of the day - and he relaxed in the old rocking chair with a cold beer.

He was just dozing off when he heard wheels crunch on the gravel drive. He frowned. He wasn't expecting visitors - no one, not even Hughes, knew where he was. He'd deliberately gone off the grid so he could come to terms with the idea, the fact that his wife was in love with his best friend.

"Peter?"

Peter started awake. Elizabeth? For a second, he considered not responding but she'd know he was there. His car was parked out front. "Back here!"

"Peter?"

That was a surprise. Neal. On further thought, maybe not such a surprise - he and Elizabeth were in the honeymoon phase of their relationship - they wouldn't want to be separated too long. He kept his expression neutral as they joined him. "This is a surprise," he said.

"I imagine it is," Elizabeth said. "But you forgot how resourceful Neal is."

Peter thought that over. "Moz," he said. "How'd you figure out I was here?"

"You taught me a lot about interrogation," Neal said as he and Elizabeth took seats on the wooden bench set back against the wall.

Peter nodded. Sometimes he forgot how smart Neal actually was. "So, why are you here?"

"To take you home," Elizabeth said.

"So you've moved to the loft?"

"No," Elizabeth said, confused. "Why would I?"

"Because that's where Neal lives," Peter said. "I assume you'd want to live together."

"Peter, Elizabeth and I aren't in love with each other," Neal said. "The only reason we...put on that show for you is because she thought you'd enjoy it."

"Ah yes...my dreams," Peter said.

"I misunderstood what I heard," Elizabeth said. "It didn't sound like bad dreams."

"You're my best friend, Peter," Neal said. "Why would I even consider taking what means the most to you? I couldn't. Elizabeth loves _you_ , not me."

"You can't help who you love, Neal," Peter said. "And I understand why you love her."

"I _do_ love her," Neal said. "But only as a friend. I'm not _in_ love with her."

Peter got up. "Excuse my manners," he said. He went inside, returning a few minutes later with beers for each of them. Neal took his without protest and twisted the cap off. "Surprised?" he asked with a slight smirk.

"I know your palate is more...refined than mine," Peter said. "Like Elizabeth's." He sipped his beer. "And that's just one example of how the two of you...fit." He looked down and sighed. "Art, wine, cuisine...I'm not that cultured. Like attracts like."

Neal looked down. "If you want, I'll step back, out of your life..." he said softly. "I never wanted to come between the two of you."

"You can't just turn it off," Peter said. "Either of you." He sighed. "I know you love each other. I saw it, there at the club. It was...right there, impossible to miss."

"You've been wrong on occasion," Neal said. "Or do I have to remind you of what happened with the whole pink diamond case? There was evidence pointing to my guilt...but I was innocent."

"What does your gut say, hon?" Elizabeth asked.

His gut. He prided himself on his instincts and the fact he was rarely wrong. All this time he'd ignored what they were telling him - the scene at the club overriding them, the shock of what he'd seen. "You still love me?" he asked.

"Oh hon...I never stopped," Elizabeth said. "Ever since the gallery and this kind, sweet...bumbling but very competent FBI agent...That painting wasn't the only thing stolen that day." She grasped his hand, interleaving their fingers. "You stole my heart."

Peter looked at their hands then at Neal.

"I'm a thief...was a thief," Neal said. "But I would never steal something this priceless." He paused. "I know how much you love her, how much she loves you...and though I've envied it, I also appreciate it...too much to even consider interfering."

"Come home?" Elizabeth asked. "Please?"

"A few more days," Peter said. "But...if you want...you could stay."

"If there's room," Neal said.

"It's two bedroom," Peter said, mildly surprised Neal was willing. He knew the other man liked his creature comforts. "I'll make up the other bed for you."

As Peter rose, Neal said, "Just so you're clear...I'm sleeping alone. Which means Elizabeth either sleeps on the couch...or with you." He looked at Elizabeth and added, "No offense Elizabeth, but I wouldn't want to share a bed with you."

"No offense taken," Elizabeth said equitably.

"Why wouldn't you?" Peter asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"Because she's your wife," Neal said. "The only one who gets that privilege is you."

 

Neal stayed the few days with them even though he could have taken Elizabeth's car back to the city, giving the couple as much alone time as he could in the small cabin. Though it had been Elizabeth who'd misread the situation, he'd played a part in Peter's misunderstanding and if he had any regrets in his life, inadvertently hurting his best friend was one of them.

On their last night there, Peter said, "Neal, walk with me."

The two men ventured out, not far from the cabin and stood a moment in silence. "Peter..." Neal started.

"I'm sorry Neal," Peter said.

"For what?"

"For thinking that you'd..."

"Steal your wife?" Neal finished. "For thinking I'd want to?"

"Something like that," Peter said.

"I admit our...performance affected me," Neal said. "How could it not? Elizabeth's a beautiful woman..." He smiled at Peter's huff of laughter. "But it never crossed my mind to take it any further. Her friendship, _your_ friendship means too much to me to jeopardize it for a quick roll in the hay, as it were." He gazed out at the night sky for a moment then said, "Sometimes I'm _too_ good an actor, it seems. Neither of us wanted to hurt you, especially like this."

"But you _have_ spent nights at the house," Peter said.

"I did, a few times," Neal said. "When Elizabeth needed company. But I always used the guest room. Even if Elizabeth had asked, I wouldn't have." He looked at the other man, a smile touching his mouth. "So, _did_ our little performance turn you on?"

Peter shrugged. "In retrospect...maybe a little," he said. "But it was mostly because of what little El was wearing."

"I still have it," Elizabeth said, coming up next to them. "Any time you want to see me in it, just say so."

"And there's my cue to leave, I think," Neal said. "Good night." Just before he went inside, he turned to look back, smiling as Peter bent to kiss his wife for the first time in days. Yes, he envied what they had but they gave him hope that, one day, he could have it too.


End file.
